The Provo Municipal Council finds itself in a bind with many city employees. Trying to solve one problem has raised a host of others.

In other words, if the city boosts its retirement contribution for police officers, it must do so for everyone.

That's where the questions start. Do police deserve special treatment? One justification given for the benefit boost is that police face special dangers. But while there are certain risks inherent in police duty, the same can be said of many other city employees -- those who work with high-voltage power sources, handle toxic materials, operate heavy machinery, drive in icy weather or charge into burning buildings.

The root of the problem is that police retirement funding is already different from that of other city employees because officers can retire after 20 years, not 30. They pay the resulting difference in costs -- $440 a month on average.

Retirement after just 20 years sounds like a good perk that many people would like to have.

It's worth noting that firefighters also retire after 20 years, but their extra retirement costs are covered by a state tax on homeowners insurance. Perhaps the Legislature should kick in for police officers as well.

But does the argument hold water that low pay is keeping good police recruits away? The police department asserts that it is, but Mayor Lewis Billings says that Provo police pay is competitive, especially when bonuses and sick-pay buybacks are considered.

In any case, there's no assurance that higher pay will make recruiting a breeze. It's a seller's market in Utah right now, with near full employment statewide.

The retirement measure will cost the city about $500,000 a year. Perversely, that money will come this year from funds slated to hire more officers. And it's not a one-time charge. Once an agency gives employees a benefit, it's practically impossible to take it back. The change in retirement pay will translate into many millions of dollars over time.

Staffers from other city departments are furious. Fairness is a must, they say, and this move is a slap in their faces. The pay parity ordinance, they say, has helped ease friction between departments, and the change will corrode employee relations.

Council members point out that not a dime is being taken away from other employees. So why should it bother them? Envying what your co-worker makes is unproductive, we agree. But it's human nature for people to seek parity with co-workers. Even minor slights can make for bad office politics. Whether for good or bad, the old arrangement for decades has been one of the expected rules of the game. The council's move has jolted many employees.

What now? Billings said the option of a veto remains on the table. But blocking the change in the parity law would then trigger a pension boost for other city departments. That would sock the city with an annual added cost of $3 million, which of course would rise with inflation. If the council won't change course, Provo is probably stuck with the decision. Voters will have to sort it out later.

Council members might at least learn a lesson from this. The final vote was taken at the last meeting of the year to beat a deadline set by the state. The whole action appears to have been rushed through at the last minute. This raises doubts about whether members really had enough time to properly weigh the matter. In the future, council members need to look further ahead. And if they ever get caught in such a time crunch again, they'd be better off delaying action.

Dropping the principle of parity for one department cripples the whole concept. Other departments likely will clamor that their needs are also special. They, too, will line up to fight for more compensation; they will likely be more assertive in working with other departments. All in all, we think these questions may well point to a new conflict-filled era in Provo city government.